The Ghost of Christmas Present
by El Leon Y La Oveja
Summary: Sirius prepares to spend Christmas alone in his parents' house. And he is dreading it so much that he decides to get the Firewhisky out. Set December of OOTP. Sirius POV. Rated M for language etc. Part of the 'Ghost' mini-series. REMUS/SIRIUS FRIENDSHIP
1. The Ghost of Christmas Present

I drained the glass and slammed it down on the table beside my bed, the bang against the wood echoing throughout the empty house. To my dismay, when I looked down at the bottle on the floor, it was empty. Sighing, muttering and stumbling, I picked up my glass and kicked the empty bottle across the room. It shattered against the opposite wall. I made my way out of the door, trying to avoid the shards of glass with my bare feet.

There were more bottles in the cellar thankfully, along with some mulled wine, a few crates of Butterbeer and right at the back of the dusty shelves, there were three or four rows of an elderflower sherry which my mother had been particularly fond of. I suppressed the urge to smash the entire collection. Grabbing three more bottles of Firewhisky, I headed out of the dark room and back upstairs. I wanted to avoid as much of the house as I could and by getting as pissed as far as humanely possible, I would not only refrain from noticing the house I hated but I wouldn't remember anything that I did see. Had I discovered my father's secret stash of Firewhisky when I was a teenager, I'd probably have died from liver failure by now.

I shouldered my bedroom door open in the dark of the landing.

"Shit!" I cursed as the tiny fragments of glass imbedded themselves into my bare feet. "Merlin, that fucking hurt!." I limped over to the bed, dumped the bottles on the duvet and sat down with my legs stretched in front of me. Both of my feet were covered in blood so I grabbed my wand from the pillow, healing the wounds as best I could, considering the quantity of alcohol that I had already consumed that evening. When I was satisfied that I wasn't going to bleed to death, I looked around me for my glass, before realising that I'd taken it downstairs and must have left it in the kitchen.

"Fuck that," I muttered. I opened the Firewhisky and drank directly from the bottle. My father had always insisted that we use glasses for Butterbeer or anything else. He claimed that only blood-traitors and Muggles drank without using glasses. I raised my face up to the sky, still drinking.

"Watch me now," I coughed, through a mouthful of Firewhisky, taking care to drip the liquid on the floor as I drank.

As a true testimony to how many bottles I had finished that evening, I could hardly taste what I was drinking and somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered that Firewhisky usually had an extremely strong flavour and a burning aftertaste. I shrugged to myself and continued drinking. The worst that would happen was that I would probably pass out at some point and wake up with my feet in agony, the hangover from hell and bottles littered all over the house. At least I'd be able to tell how much I'd had. I lowered the drink and felt a distinct rush of pride. Over half the Firewhisky had gone. I was no lightweight, as I had enjoyed demonstrating to the Marauders on many occasions at Hogwarts and afterwards. A few nights before James's wedding had been the highlight of my alcoholic escapades.

As I drained the last few drops from the bottle, I heard a banging coming from downstairs. Shit. There was someone at the door. How long had they been there? When I stood up, I couldn't even feel my feet so I assumed that I'd had quite a lot to drink. I couldn't quite remember when I'd started, nor what time it was now.

Praying that it wasn't Dumbledore or Snape, I made my way down the stairs with the empty bottle still swinging from my hand. I crept past my mother's portrait and even after I had been drinking heavily, I still remembered not to wake her up. That was definitely proof of what a complete bitch she was.

Holding the bottle in my right hand and wrenching the door open with my left, I blinked in the sudden streetlight which flooded into the hallway. I rubbed my eyes as I was finding it difficult to see who was outside.

"Sirius?" A worried voice broke into my thoughts. I squinted closely.

"Moony!" I pulled my friend into a tight hug and after the initial shock, he patted me on the back. Then, recoiled slightly.

"Sirius, have you been…" He trailed off as he walked inside, shut the door and spotted the bottle in my hand. I shrugged.

"Haven't had that much." Remus looked at me with disapproval in his eyes. "Don't give me that look, Rem," I told him. "I'm just having a few Christmas drinks." He rolled his eyes.

"Sirius, I've seen you drunk enough times to know when you've had a few more than 'a few'." I nodded absent-mindedly. At times like this, it was better to let Remus talk and just think about something else until he was done with the lecture. "You can't let yourself get like this anymore. What if a Death Eater came to the door?" I shrugged again. I didn't see the big deal.

"I don't see the problem, Rem. There's plenty of Firewhisky. They could have some too."

"Sirius!" His shout brought me back to the present. "You could have let anyone inside when you're in this state. Did you even check before you let me in?" I grinned.

"Rem, you're my best friend. I trust you." I gave him a huge smile but he didn't seem impressed.

"I could have been a Death Eater," he told me angrily. "You need to start acting more responsibly."

"Spare me the lecture," I cut in. "Have some Firewhisky." I handed him the bottle before I realised that I'd finished it. "Don't worry, there's more upstairs."

I started up the stairs and I could hear Remus chasing after me. I shoved my bedroom door open and leapt over the pile of bloodstained glass.

"Watch out for the glass," I warned him as I attempted to open another of the bottles of Firewhisky which had been sitting on my bed. Remus's face went white as he saw the fragments of glass.

"Sirius!" he yelled. "What have you done?" I lifted up my foot.

"It's alright," I explained. "I've already dealt with it." Remus rushed over towards me.

"Sirius, there are shards of _glass_ sticking out of your foot," he told me, in his Remus-knows-best tone. I looked down but everything appeared to be rather blurry.

"I can't see any," I argued. "I got them all out earlier." Remus sighed and pulled the chair from my desk closer to the edge of the bed.

"Sit up with your feet out," he told me. "You definitely did not get all of the glass out earlier."

"What's a few pieces of glass?" I asked casually. "Firewhisky?" I held out the new bottle. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that Remus was fighting a smirk.

"No thank you," he replied, closing his eyes briefly. "I'm wondering how to get these pieces out of your foot, since you've partly healed the wounds _around the glass_." I fought back laughter.

"Did I really?" Remus met my gaze for a second.

"Dittany?"

"In the bathroom," I told him. He paused for a moment.

"Do you have a knife?" I nodded and groped under my pillow.

"Here you go." He looked slightly surprised.

"You sleep with a knife under your pillow?" I nodded.

"You can't be too cautious, Moony." I explained. He muttered something that sounded like _of course not_ and then shifted his chair closer to the bed.

"Accio Dittany," he spoke softly and the tiny bottle came zooming towards him out of the bathroom. "You know, you really are an idiot, Sirius." I leaned over to ruffle his hair, which he generally hated. "This is going to hurt," he warned me. "I'm going to have to reopen your wounds to get the glass out." I nodded as I felt a slight pressure underneath my toes.

"Okay," I replied. I felt the knife scraping gently.

"Are you alright?" I nodded.

"Fine. Tell me when you're going to slice my foot open." Remus stared at me incredulously.

"I've already done it," he told me. "Didn't you feel that?" I shook my head.

"Just a slight scratching sensation," I shrugged. "That was it?" Angling my face towards his, Remus stared right at me.

"Exactly how much have you had to drink?" he asked me. I grinned.

"I don't remembered exactly," I admitted, still attempting to uncork the Firewhisky in my hand. "But the bottles are all over the floor." I gestured vaguely towards the pile of broken glass in the doorway. I felt the scraping again and then Remus laid the bloody knife on my bedside cabinet.

"Have you got a handkerchief?" I nodded. "Is it clean?" I shook my head. He sighed. "Pass me that t-shirt." I threw it to him and then realised.

"That's one of my favourites," I complained. "You're not going to get blood all over it?"

"Sirius," he started, sounding exhausted. "Would you rather bleed to death?" I contemplated that for a few seconds.

"Probably not." He looked mildly amused as he splashed Dittany on the t-shirt.

"Probably not," he repeated. Remus dabbed my feet with the t-shirt and I felt a faint stinging sensation. Looking down at the bottle in my hands, I was more concerned with why it wasn't opening. I was partly aware of more Dittany being applied to my feet as I wrestled with the Firewhisky bottle in my mouth. As hard as I gripped the cork with my teeth, I could not pull it out.

"Alright, I'm finished here," Remus announced, clearing the broken glass, bloody t-shirt and glass fragments away with his wand. I nodded, my mouth still clasped around the Firewhisky. "Sirius, give me that bottle." Remus instructed. I nodded and then suddenly the idea hit me. How to get the cork out. If my teeth weren't strong enough, surely a dog's teeth would be. I placed the bottle upright on the chair where Remus had been sitting and stood up in front of it, concentrating very hard on Padfoot. When I saw two paws in front of me, I knew that it had worked. I'd never actually tried the transformation after having so much to drink. Just as Remus turned around in shock, I grabbed the Firewhisky in my mouth and holding the bottle only by the cork, I began shaking my shaggy head back and forth.

"Padfoot, what in the name of Merlin are you doing?" Remus yelled at me. I stopped the motion of my head in response to his raised voice and three things happened simultaneously. First, the swaying of my head had caused me to become rather dizzy and so I collapsed on the floor, knocking over the chair, still in my dog form. Secondly, I was feeling so dizzy that I managed to vomit all over the rug. Thirdly, the bottle flew across the room, the cork having finally detached itself, and hit the wall opposite. The pressure caused the bottle to burst and Firewhisky sprayed everywhere, soaking Remus and myself. I was still throwing up in the corner and Remus did not look happy.

"For Merlin's sake!" he shouted. I whined. I still hadn't transformed back because I felt too sick to move. I scratched at the floor with my paw, feeling the urge to vomit again. As Remus crossed the room to help me up, the sick narrowly missed his foot.

"Padfoot!" he cried out. "Stop it! Transform back!" I shook my head sorrowfully, feeling my ears flopping around my face. My back paws were beginning to ache for some reason and I still felt extremely sick. Dodging the sick once more, Remus grabbed me by the scruff of my neck. "Garden!" he ordered. "Outside!" I whined. If there was one thing worse than vomiting inside the house, it was vomiting outside on a freezing cold December night. Remus frowned at me.

"Padfoot, get in the garden," he told me sternly. My attempt at puppy-dog eyes was thwarted by the arrival of another bout of sickness.

Somehow, I made it downstairs and out of the back door, where I crouched on the patio, still in my Animagus form. In the freezing night, Remus seemed to have softened up slightly and he stroked the top of my head while I threw up countless times in the patch of weeds beside the back door.

"It's alright, Padfoot," he murmured into my ear. "You know, I've never actually seen a dog vomiting before." I couldn't even bring myself to roll my eyes or wag my tail so I just howled loudly instead. Remus burst out laughing.

"You sound like a werewolf," he informed me. I did roll my eyes after that and let out a pitiful whine. He brushed my fur out of my eyes. "You know that this is all your own fault?" I deliberately thumped him with my tail, howled once more and ducked my head to rid myself of more Firewhisky. I was beginning to regret drinking so much. Throwing up as a dog was even more unpleasant than throwing up as a human. I was praying that I'd be able to transform back afterwards; I didn't even want to think about what would happen if I got stuck as a dog for Christmas.

We ended up spending most of the night outdoors and once I'd finished vomiting, I whined and rested my head on Remus's lap. He stroked my ears until my breathing slowed and didn't seem to mind that even as a dog, I smelt strongly of Firewhisky. I whined softly and nuzzled his hand in thanks as I felt my eyes closing.

"You're welcome," Remus answered, knowing exactly what I was trying to convey. "Besides, after all these years, it's definitely my turn to look after you for once." I wagged my tail feebly. The last things I felt were my eyelids drooping and Remus's hand patting my head gently.

/

Something was prickling my feet and there was a bright light that appeared to be shining into my eyes. In a burst of agony, I opened them.

"Bloody hell," I croaked. My throat was sore, like someone had been rubbing it with sandpaper all night, my feet were extremely painful and my head might have been filled with rocks for the amount of pain I was in. A movement next to me made me stir. I turned my head so slowly that I hardly felt my neck moving.

Remus was sitting in the chair beside my bed, with a familiar expression on his face; a combination of amusement and annoyance.

"Wha…?" I could just about manage the first syllable. I coughed and tried again. "Wh…?" He couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," Remus spoke calmly, his smile fading and a steely tone to his voice. "I will tell Dumbledore next time. I was this close to sending him an owl." I blinked.

"I don...I don't remember much," I admitted.

"I'm hardly surprised," Remus replied. "You're a complete idiot, you know that?" I nodded and then audibly winced at the pain it caused my head. Turning round to the the desk, Remus sighed. He leaned over with a silver goblet in his hand. "Sit up," he instructed me. Very slowly, I did so, each tiny movement causing my head a great deal of agony. He handed me the goblet. "Drink it all."

"What is it?" I croaked. I recognised it from somewhere.

"Hangover Potion," he answered, smiling faintly. I glanced over to my desk where I saw a mug and plate.

"What...what are those?" I tried to gesture with my head but regretted it instantly. Remus couldn't help his smirk.

"You can only have them once you've finished that potion. It's black coffee and Honeydukes chocolate." I cocked my head to one side.

"I honestly love you, Moony," I told him sincerely. I took a sip of the potion. It wasn't as bad as I had been expecting. "Thanks for last night." He nodded.

"You already told me. Well, Padfoot did anyway." I gasped.

"I...I transformed?" Remus scrutinised me with one of his looks.

"Like I said, complete idiot." I took another swig of the potion.

"How did I change back?" I asked him. Remus shook his head.

"I don't know how you managed it. One minute the dog was throwing up in the garden, the next he was asleep on my lap and then you just turned back into a human." I raised my eyebrows.

"That sounds risky," I suppressed a smirk but Remus knew me too well for it to go unnoticed.

"It's not funny, Padfoot," he snapped. "You need to be more careful. Do you want to back to Azkaban?" I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Moony," I told him. Remus sat back in the chair and sighed.

"Why did you do it, Sirius?" he questioned. "Why would you risk it?" I looked down at my lap and drank the last of the Hangover Potion for something to do. Finally, I met his anxious gaze.

"Because I hate this house Moony, more than you could ever imagine. You don't know what it's like, being trapped back here like I was before." I paused and Remus, knowing me as well as he did, knew that I hadn't finished. He just watched me until I continued.

"I hated the thought of spending Christmas here, on my own, locked up in these rooms. I can't keep the memories out. Even in this room, there's too much stuff. Posters, pictures, photos...I can't handle it, Remus. I went crazy yesterday and decided that if I had as much to drink as I possibly could, then there'd be no chance of me remembering any of the things that I hate about this house." I pushed my hair out of my eyes. "And that bloody tapestry. Just looking at it reminds me of everything I hate about my family. Whatever I do, whatever side I take, I'll never be able to change who my ancestors were, what sort of people they are. It's like a mild version of Azkaban. I don't have a single happy memory of this house."

Remus was silent for a moment until he leaned closer to me.

"I'm sorry, Padfoot," he whispered. "I never realised that you hated the house that much." I shrugged.

"I don't think I ever did, either. Not until I had to come back here, anyway."

"You should have sent me an owl. I would have come straight over." I shook my head. I knew that Remus would have done anything I asked him to if it made my situation any better. He thought that he owed me for everything that I'd ever done for him.

"I can't just call someone for help, Moony," I told him sadly. "We're adults now; we're supposed to be able to look after ourselves. And sometimes...I just feel like I can't. I know it sounds stupid but Azkaban stole my maturity. When we left school, I wasn't mature. When we were thrown into the war, I wasn't mature. We had to deal with too much, too soon. And before I had the chance to grow up properly, I was in Azkaban. And in there, maturity makes no difference. When I escaped, it just felt as though Dumbledore and everyone threw me in at the deep end and told me to get on with it. To pick up the pieces of a life which doesn't fit me." I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed deeply. "Sorry Moony. I didn't mean to go on about all that. I know you've got too much to be thinking about right now."

Remus shook his head.

"Don't say that," he replied, forcing me to look up and meet his eyes. "How many times have you listened to me, no matter what's going on in your life? I'm just so sorry that I couldn't be there for you sooner." He passed me the chocolate and I grinned.

"Thanks." He smiled back.

"I'm inviting myself over for Christmas," he announced. I stopped chewing mid-mouthful.

"What? You don't want to come here for Christmas." I didn't want to force Remus to endure the house along with me. I'd rather suffer in silence than drag him into my terrible Christmas plans.

"I'd rather spend it here than sitting somewhere else on my own, drinking as much Firewhisky as I can without doing what you did last night." My smile widened.

"You actually want to come for Christmas?" As he passed me the mug of coffee, Remus nodded.

"You won't be on your own. I won't be on my own. It's a win-win."

I must have looked ecstatic that I wouldn't be spending Christmas alone in my parents' house. Remus appeared very amused at my surprise.

"It's not such a huge sacrifice, you know," he laughed. "I might even enjoy myself."

"You remember my lack of culinary skills, I hope?" I warned. He burst out laughing again.

"I can recall a few incidents and I'm sure that you remember that my skills were sufficient enough to patch up your...disastrous attempts." I had to laugh.

"You're in charge of the food then."

"That sounds acceptable." Remus smirked as he stood up. "I need a change of clothes after last night. The entire house smells of Firewhisky, by the way." I groaned. "And there's an Order meeting here in an hour. I hope you haven't forgotten." I groaned even more loudly.

"PLEASE tell me you're joking." Remus smirked.

"Yes, I am." I scowled playfully.

"That's cruel, Moony," I told him in mock upset. "I actually believed you." He grinned at me.

"I learnt from the best."

"That's very true," I replied, feeling happiness in my parents' house for one of the first times in my life.


	2. The Ghost of Christmas Presents

I stood in the doorway with Remus, admiring the huge Christmas tree which covered the entire back wall. A slightly unfortunate turn of events for Mr Weasley had worked in my favour- I wouldn't be spending Christmas alone this year. Harry, Hermione and the entire Weasley family were staying for the holidays, something that had actually given me reason to celebrate for once.

Filled with life, the house wasn't as dark or gloomy as it usually seemed. Every inch of it had been covered with decorations. Remus had remarked that I was acting more like my old self, how I used to enjoy Christmas back at Hogwarts, jumping on his bed as soon as I woke up and singing Christmas carols loudly for days. Yes, this would be one of my better Christmases.

I turned my attention back to the tree. Behind all the lights, baubles and stars, the Black family tapestry on the wall was hardly visible.


End file.
